


The Hermits and the Paintings

by Katie_Smith24



Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Happy Ending, I don’t make Sam a bad guy for once, Other, Those moving paintings from Harry Potter, but it isn’t a Harry Potter AU, idk how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27580552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katie_Smith24/pseuds/Katie_Smith24
Summary: Grian received a note from Taurtis! Or was it really from the Watchers?
Relationships: None
Kudos: 65





	The Hermits and the Paintings

**Author's Note:**

> Haha I didn’t read this so ignore any mistakes

It all started with a letter. It arrived in the Hermit’s weekly mailbox, and was addressed to Grian. 

Xisuma returned from the giant hub that connects all the worlds, called Vanhu, with the mail, giving them out around the large table. 

The hermits had all gathered around, some getting mail like they do every week, like Joe or Wels from their families, and others hoping to get packages that had to be shipped in, like Iskall or Doc’s robotic parts. 

Some people sat around that table knowing they weren’t going to get a package: like Zedaph, who couldn’t remember his past, let alone get letters or packages from someone outside Hermitcraft. 

Grian was considered one of those people who never got packages: no one dared ask why, so no one got an answer. 

But that day was different, Xisuma paused as he got to the last letter, reading the name printed there twice. 

“Oh, wow, Grian! You got a letter,” he said, handing the letter over. 

Grian paused, looking it over. No return address on the outside, only his name and Hermitcraft’s specific slot number in Vanhu’s mail building. 

The hermits sitting around the table sat up, looking away from their own mail, because apparently Grian’s mail was so much more interesting than theirs. 

Grian opened the letter, and, upon seeing everyone staring expectantly, began to read aloud.

“Dear Grian,

I must admit it has been far too long since I’ve last seen you. In fact, I was only reminded to do so when I heard some interesting news, and knew you would be the first person I’d tell it to. 

Sam Gladiator is dead. Apparently, he had not only lived through the fall of Yandere High, but the end of the Kingdom of Valor, as well. He died in a world all by himself, as karma does.

I miss you, and would love to meet up? The world number is 402612, and I’m waiting with open arms.

Love,  
Taurtis.”

Grian sat there for a moment, stunned to silence. Okay, so Sam’s dead? 

Taurtis sounded weirdly happy throughout the letter, and the tone didn’t really fit what he usually had, but Grian was willing to let go of that if it meant meeting up with his old friend. 

He didn’t seem to think about how Taurtis found his location, as they hadn’t talked since the middle of Evolution. 

“Um, Grian? Who- I mean, are you gonna go to meet up with your… friend?” Xisuma asked, seemingly unsure, as to the hermits, Grian had just learned about the death of a friend, and was probably emotional over it.

Grian grinned, surprising the others. His grin turned into a laugh, and he beamed at Xisuma. 

“Why, yes, X-Eye-Sue-Ma! I’m glad he reached out! Am I allowed to leave for a day or two to visit him?” Grian asked, smiling. 

X nodded, and Grian walked past the large paintings on the wall to the Vanhu portal, turning back as waving at everyone.

They waved back, some calling out goodbyes, as Grian jumped in and travelled to Vanhu. 

Vanhu, which is short for Vantage Hub, is a beautiful island with the large portals to open servers, which many people live in. It also has a large brick building for the mail service.

The main island is surrounded by endless smaller islands, all connected with bridges. 

Each small island has a house and a portal in it, all to small and mostly private worlds. Most are even white-listed. They’re marked by a sign with identification numbers printed or carved on. 

Grian pulls out his letter, checking the number. 402612. He uses his large, white wings to fly faster across the beautiful landscape. 

Many islands have themes that builders and designers put effort into. Grian smiled as he landed on one made of dirt and grass, a cottage surrounded by flowers in the middle. A sign marked 402612 hangs by the door. 

He enters without knocking, as it is unusable for a small one-man world like Taurtis’s home to have a resident in the welcoming house. 

He walks upstairs, and sees the portal. It resembles a nether portal, but each portal in Vanhu is an obsidian base with colored swirls floating like an untouchable magic liquid.

Taurtis’s portal was a dark purple, almost like a Watcher’s cloak. Groan doesn’t think twice before hopping in.

Too bad it was a trap. 

As soon as Grian stepped out of the portal, he was surrounded by three Watchers, tall beings with long cloaks and large white wings. 

The tallest, one with long, flowing, white hair, and the largest wingspan, stepped forward. 

They raised their hand as if to reach out for him, and Grian passed out almost immediately. It had been awhile since he had faced another Watcher’s magic, and he was weak to it. 

—————-

The hermits were worried. Grain had said he’d be gone for a day or two, but it had been almost one week since they last saw him. 

Mumbo and Iskall asked Xisuma if they could go out to search for him, but X was hesitant. 

“Grian’s only now seeing a friend he hasn’t seen in forever, and’s dealing with the death of what must’ve been a friend of them both. Let him take his time,” Xisuma said, and they nodded. 

After another week went by with no contact, X finally allowed Mumbo and Iskall to go to Vanhu to look for him. He didn’t allow them to enter any small servers, though, as it would be an invasion of privacy. 

The two left with kind words from the other Hermits, wishing them good luck. Even Doc looked a little worried for Grian, though he’d never admit it. 

————-

Mumbo and Iskall stood in the Center square of the main island, taking in the sights and people there. Humans and creatures of all worlds were hustling and bustling around, trying to make it to their destination or sitting in a cafe with an old friend. 

Distracted, Iskall accidentally tripped over Mumbo’s foot, crashing into him and a stranger and taking all of them to the ground. 

Quickly, the stranger, a man with raven-black hair and headphones around his neck helped them up and led them away from the crowd, sitting them down in his little shop. 

“Sorry about that!” Mumbo exclaimed, blushing with embarrassment. 

Iskall nodded, brushing imaginary dust off his pants and looking around. The shop was small, selling little snacks and drinks. 

The man smiled, introducing himself: “I’m Taurtis, and this is my little snack shop. I don’t mind you knocking me over, I’m just as clumsy!”

Mumbo and Iskall looked at each other, shocked at their luck. 

“Taurtis? The man Grian was visiting?” Iskall said, his Swedish accent standing out with his excitement. 

“Grian?!? I know him! Well, knew him. I haven’t seen him in forever. Not since Evo, where he was admin,” Taurtis said, trailing off at the end, almost lost in a memory. 

Mumbo perked up. “So you haven’t seen him, then? And if not, then who sent that letter?” He asked, tilting his head. 

Taurtis scrunched his face, thinking for a moment. “No, I saw him last in the middle of Evo, where I had taken a break.”

“When I came back, the others from Evo said that he had gone missing, and that Evo was over because it could not go on without him. I was sad, but everyone had their own projects to do, so no one stuck around, which led to me opening this little shop!” 

Mumbo and Iskall thanked him for the information, telling him Hermitcraft’s address if he ever wanted to visit when they found Grian. 

They returned home, telling the others the news around the meeting table, tall white walls and detailed paintings surrounding them. 

Doc said what they were all thinking; “If Grian’s disappeared once, does that mean he’s in trouble with the same people as before? If so, what’d he do?”

And they sat in a worried silence, not knowing what to do next. 

The paintings on the walls seemed to mock them with their smiling faces and dancing poses. 

———— 

Grian woke up in a bedrock room. There was nothing there but the little white bed he was laying in, a chest full of food, and a painting of a beautiful landscape. 

A loud crack sounded in the air as the tallest Watcher appeared. They stood tall, and though their Watcher mask covered their eyes, a small frown was showing on the lower portion of their face. 

It pulled out a scroll of paper and began to read in a formal fashion, though it didn’t need to, as it was probably the one who wrote it.

“Grian-Xelqua, you were given the gift of Watcher magic. It allowed you your wings and abilities. As you left the Watchers, we were merciful, and let you live.

What we didn’t account for was gifts cannot be taken back once given. We absolutely cannot let you in the free world with Watcher magic if you aren’t a loyal Watcher yourself.”

It then moved forward, bringing out a dull purple crystal.

“You are to flow your magic into this until it is all gone, even your wings. The crystal will glow when you’re done. Then, and only then, will you be allowed to leave. Thank you for your patience and understanding.”

The Watcher then disappeared. 

Grian sat there a moment, contemplating his choices. He did know it would be easy to get out and live if he gave up his magic, as the Watchers were true to their word. 

But, he also knew he wanted nothing more than to keep his magic. He knew that if he escaped, they would never be able to catch him again, as they could only do that if he willingly left and entered one of their worlds. 

He would be safe if he could just make it to Hermitcraft.

Grian looked around, hoping for something useful. The bed? Nope. The chest of food? Nope. The painting? No- wait. 

This brought him back to a memory of him sitting in the Watcher’s library, reading a book in Galactic. It had been over powers Watchers had, but didn’t use because they weren’t as useful as others. 

One passage had talked about paintings. It said Watchers (and those with their powers) could travel into a painting, and then move from painting to painting. 

It had fallen out of use due to the need to be helped out by another being, and there were more useful and direct means of travel. 

Grian grinned at his luck. He placed his hand over the painting and imagined himself in the beautiful landscape: trees and hills, even the little river flowing through it. 

Soon, he opened his eyes, and he was there. A window floated in the air, showing the bedrock room. The area that would’ve been out-of-picture if one were to look at the painting was a white wall with a little door innit. Both walls had doors, too.

He smiled, running over and going through the door. 

The next place he was in was a room with thirteen people sitting around one side of a table, eating, and frozen in time like the mannequin challenge. (Shoutout if u can guess the painting.)

The side of the room with no people had a large window, showing a living room with people innit. (Yes, innit, not in it.) 

They didn’t notice Grian as he peered out, observing the world. 

A blond man with shoulder-length hair and a green and white hat with grey wings sat on a couch with three others. 

He was saying, “Wilbur! Don’t encourage Techno to hit your little brother!”

A blond teenager spoke up, “I’m not little! I’m the biggest man!”

The fourth man in the room, a pink-haired Piglin hybrid, laughed, pushing the smaller blond into the couch. “You’re still a little man to me, Toms.”

Grian smiled at the scene, but, as it wasn’t Hermitcraft, he quickly ran across the room, opening the door on the other side.

The next room was unmistakably a copy of the Mona-Lisa. She sat close to a small window that she peered out of, and when Grian looked over her shoulder, it seemed to be an office. 

There was a woman talking to a boy in a chair, obviously a therapist and her client. 

Grian was chilled to the bone when he recognized the boy with rabbit ears. Sam! Of course, the letter was a trap, so he wasn’t dead. 

One might think this would worry Grian, but honestly, he was glad Sam was getting better, if he was in therapy. Grian never could hold a grudge. 

The next room was another landscape, this time mountains.

The dining room the window showed held a man with a white smiley-face mask joking around with a demon, a man with big classes/goggles, and a man with a white headband. 

Not Hermitcraft, time to go. 

Grian was growing tired as he hopped from painting to another, able to notice time was passing outside the frozen scenes. 

He spent nights sleeping in beds with frozen people around, awkward and paranoid. Logically, the people there weren’t going to move, but it was still weird to sleep in their presence.

Finally, he reached a ballroom full of people dancing, having the time of their lives. Smiles frozen on their happy faces.

The window looked out over a white meeting room with people sitting around- the Hermits!

Grian immediately ran up to the window, but when he put his hand up to the frame, he couldn’t go through. Ha banged on the “glass,” knowing he needed help if he wanted to escape.

————-

Xisuma was about to suggest going to talk to Taurtis for more information on who might’ve sent the fake letter, but he was interrupted by a soft banging.

Turning to the painting, he saw Grian painted into it, smiling and- waving? He quickly moved, the others also getting up, and surrounded the painting. 

Mumbo put his hand to the painting, and Grian did the same, until they were over each other. Grian smiled as Mumbo’s hand fell through, joining with Grian’s, and helped him down from the painting.

It looked like Mumbo was a chauffeur and Grian was an important person being helped out of a limousine… but less graceful. Maybe more like an old person getting out of a truck with the help of their nurse.

Grian smiled and hugged Mumbo, Iskall running forward and hugging, too. 

Soon, everyone was in a group hug, and it was okay. 

“What- what happened?” Xisuma asked, turning away from the now over hug. 

Grian just smiled and said, “Well, I was kidnapped. But now, I escaped and they shouldn’t be able to find me again. That’s why they had to lure me out using a letter.” 

“It was just a simple mistake that happened where it ended up with them trying to take away something they gave me. I didn’t like that so I escaped.” 

Grian didn’t elaborate and they didn’t press any further. 

A few days went by, and people finally stopped walking on eggshells around him when he egged Mumbo’s house. And stole everyone’s doors.

If Grian could prank, then he was okay. This whole ordeal was just a tiny slip-up in a nice, happy story. 

—————-

And if everyone suddenly had at least one painting in their house from then on, it wasn’t mentioned.


End file.
